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Flexible Garden Pipe

Illusive Eden - He Pretends He's the Hero

Neva and Rhett, the two youths have their heart strings attached in love. Interfering their peaceful life circumstances unfolds scattering blades in their romance. Ishmael, with a heart of spikes, he looks to mend the wound, searching and failing for his Neva separated from him. Rays of love and joy filtering through clouds of horror in the world, Neva before him once more. The twisted fate entangling them, reveals the game of sphere as misery burns their soul. Concealed life beyond turning pages—one after another. The tale gathers: sin and virtue, tragedy and fortune, strength and weakness, destruction and creation, love and hate. Illusion is where we live; in the Garden of Eden before the fall of man. Illusive is serenity; an evermore sanguine of love. Visionary of Eden in the new earth; sows hope deep in the soul. Delusory pleasure of the world; shall bring us burns in the ocean of fire. Illusive Eden is peace. Illusive Eden is tragedy. The fall of the man, even now bleeding red. The whisper whirls with the dawn of a man. He, who pretends to be the Hero. (The girl who promised to always be together, Forbids him to ever appear, Refusing to recognise him, She disregards all he ever had. Vowing to protect her, He's the terrifying truth she hopes rules lie. Tripping and ripping her, He's the living tragedy looming in on her life. He once was her Elayne, now her hiraeth; He's the villain pretending to be a Hero.)
NehaPriaa · 112.4K Views

FIRSTBORN

Lira, a young girl lost in a mysterious forest, stumbles upon a hidden garden of black roses. Weak from hunger and exhaustion, she meets Caelan, a brooding man with a white mask covering half of his face, the other half scarred and twisted. He gives her food and a clean dress, but his cold, sarcastic demeanor hides a deeper pain. When Lira touches his scars, something strange happens: they begin to fade, as if her touch can heal them. Confused and afraid, she pulls away, but her touch has already triggered a transformation. Flowers bloom, and the air shimmers with life, breathing color into the dark, decaying castle nearby. Caelan reveals that her touch brings life to the castle, a place trapped in darkness and madness for centuries. The power she doesn't understand makes her a target for dangerous creatures that want to steal it. Fearing for her safety, Caelan traps her in his castle to protect her, even as he resents her ability to undo the curse that binds him there. As Lira spends more time with him, she discovers that her magic is tied to Caelan's curse. Each time she touches him, the scars on his face fade more, but it also threatens his existence. Despite his bitterness, a bond forms between them, and Lira begins to understand that she may be the key to breaking Caelan's curse-but only if she can control her dangerous power before the creatures outside break in. Lira must decide whether to trust Caelan, embrace her magic, and save the castle-or escape before her powers consume them both.
ajharly · 125 Views

Song of the Gardener of Souls [BL]

Rowan sees beauty in death. The Order he has sworn to obey only sees defilement. As the reviled Caretaker of the Order, Rowan has accepted his role as a dutiful outcast because he believes it is the only way to prove his worth to the man who holds his sisters’ souls as collateral. With his magic and his voice, Rowan can absorb death and transform it, but only in ways the Order deems acceptable to maintain the stability of the reality it claims to protect Order must subdue Disorder. Reality must triumph over illusion. He is tainted and always will be. Rowan has never questioned those lessons, but that changes the night he harvests a crimson soul that is more than human and chooses to keep it a secret. When Rowan’s song transforms that soul into a beautiful and mysterious man he names Wren, he is forced to accept that sometimes duty is a lie and illusion is the only thing you can trust. As the fabric of the Order begins to unwind and a new kind of Disorder takes hold, Rowan will need to choose again, stand with the Order that held him down, or forge a new path with Wren at his side. He may be the only one who can restore balance to the worlds, but only if he can find balance within himself first. ************************************* Updates 3-4 times per week. Note: This story focuses on relationships. I promise an epic romance, lots of swoon-worthy moments, and a healthy amount of fluff. When it does get steamy…you might get burned. Fair warning for explicit content. I don’t shy away from my spice. There are lots of side characters and couples to fall in love with, in addition to the main couple. If you love the idea of found family, you will be happy. This book is set in a non-heteronormative world, so you will see various gender identities/expressions and types of love. ************************************* Excerpt (if you want the full steamy version, you will have to read the book!): Still reeling from the new magic that coursed under his skin and unsure of how to react to the desire that threatened to take control of him, Rowan froze. Wren's hot breath against his mouth sent a jolt of pleasure through his body, and he choked back a groan. A different kind of panic flared in Rowan's chest, burning him as if he were the one on fire. This was what he wanted, what he'd thought about every night since Wren left. But wanting more was one thing. Acting on it was another. He'd spent so much of his life hiding, he didn't know how to do anything else. One corner of Wren's mouth twitched as Rowan pulled away. When he attempted to free himself from Wren's grasp, Wren just hauled him closer. Rowan liked that he didn't have to think about what to do next. His bare chest thudded against Wren's torso, and the heat from Wren's body merged with Rowan's skin, melting him from the inside out. "What did you just do to me?" Wren's deep voice vibrated against Rowan's chest. "The Disorder of your illusion was holding you captive. I…I absorbed it." "Oh? Where did you learn to do that? Have I been gone that long?" Wren's grip loosened slightly on Rowan's wrists as if he was satisfied now that Rowan was practically sitting on top him. Rowan stared at Wren's lips. He opened his mouth to protest, but immediately closed it again. "I know you aren't going to say that I shouldn't touch you." Wren's free hand splayed over the small of Rowan's back. "Not when you started it." Rowan's breath hitched. "No. I'm not going to say that anymore. Not to you." "I thought you were afraid to be touched." Wren's fingers traced a circle over the curve of Rowan's spine as if testing for a reaction. "I know that I'm not afraid of you." Rowan waited for the panic to set in, but all he felt was desire. "With you, I want…" "You want what?" "I want more." Triumph flared in Wren's gaze before he narrowed his eyes. "Really? Then why are you still trying to get away from me?"
LivChanin · 1M Views

Linking Stars

"Fate, a predetermined destiny assigned by an all-knowing being, is just a blatant claim meant to bolster one's drive towards a goal." Do we expect heroes to be valiant warriors, Vanquishing monsters with courage victorious, Leaving the sunset with the damsel in distress, Or is it someone more unexpected, we must confess? What lies in a bright, joyful world, Also comes darkness, tragedy unfurled, Self-hurting monsters that crawl and thrive, Inside your deepest trauma, they come alive. Our most powerful enemy lies beneath ourselves, We create our villains, from our inner shelves, We are the villains, through actions impressed, Our actions have repercussions, as fate is addressed. Weapons come in different shapes and forms, Sharp and strong, yet the most powerful storms, Are the losses of friends, our families dear, Stronger than any blade's angry tear. Beneath the night sky, stars intertwine, Creating constellations, in patterns divine. Some see mere beauty, a sight for sore eyes, Others see techniques, where combat lies. These stars, like people, bond and unite, Their strength in connection, a radiant light. A sunflower and a black rose, side by side, Coexisting, finding bonds, where threats reside. Cherry blossoms, sizzles, azaleas too, Anemones surround, providing support true. Each with their weaknesses, together they stand, Is it destiny, or fate’s gentle hand? As the universe moves, slowly they meet, Blades deciding fates, the challenges they greet. In a garden of struggle, where each flower grows, They find strength in unity, against all foes.
LightKazukiGray · 5.4K Views

After Transmigrating, I Farmed Cabbages with the Amnesiac Prince

After transmigrating into the body of an orphaned refugee, Zhang Wanqing finds herself in a feudal society with no golden finger or grand system to rely on. Gritting her teeth, she moves into a decrepit temple and picks up a hoe and shovel, vowing to survive against all odds. She clears wasteland for farming, raises livestock and poultry, and even brings back a wolf cub from the mountains to raise. Eventually, she manages to scrape by. Later, the perfumes she creates take the markets of Luzhou by storm, and everyone respectfully addresses her as “Boss Zhang.” Despite her success, Zhang Wanqing never forgets her roots. She promotes agriculture, builds schools, and provides relief to refugees, earning widespread praise and admiration. But what should she do about the handsome yet silly young man who follows her around like a loyal puppy during her daily tasks? When she hoes the ground, he fetches water. When she feeds the chickens, he herds the sheep—seemingly oblivious to the mud dirtying his elegant azure silk robes. “Suhan Shan, the fields aren’t plowed yet—what’s the point of watering them?” Zhang Wanqing finally questions him, her bright almond eyes glaring in exasperation. The bashful young man blushes, scratching his head and apologizing, “Mother said the soil must be moist for plowing to go smoothly!” At first, it seemed like a perfectly ordinary remark. But Zhang Wanqing is suddenly reminded of the shadows and whispers beneath the red canopy last night. Her face flushes crimson, and she tosses her farming tools aside, fleeing into the house. Behind her, the silly young man stands in the garden, scratching his head in confusion.
Sewashi · 1.7K Views
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